


the secret to beautiful roses is to add a whole lot of blood to the fertilizer

by stuffandsundry



Category: Gintama
Genre: Gen, Hanahaki Disease, Terrible Coping Mechanisms, canon typical vomit
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-07
Updated: 2018-12-07
Packaged: 2019-09-13 18:35:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16897815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stuffandsundry/pseuds/stuffandsundry
Summary: in hijikata's brief, painful brush with romance, he's learned that love kills. why should he have expected anything else?





	the secret to beautiful roses is to add a whole lot of blood to the fertilizer

"There's a certain romance to this, don't you think?" The doctor beams, annoyingly chipper. She's got a scrubbed squeaky-clean look to her, like she's fresh out of med school and still hasn't learned exactly how full of shit the world is.

Hijikata Toushiro glares at her balefully from the examination table. God, he hates doctors. Especially the happy looking ones— how dare they, really? What's there to be happy about, damn it? Why does he have to spend good money to get some hack with an embossed piece of paper tell him that everything he's doing with his life is wrong? "Romance. Are you serious."

"I mean," she continues, as if she hadn't heard him, "sure, there's currently an alien parasite living in your body that feeds off a particular mixture of neurotransmitters humans emit that— more or less— corresponding to the feeling of unrequited love, but hey, if you ignore that, doesn't this sound like such a tragically emotional story arc from an award-winning shoujo manga? Flower petals, falling from some poor soul's lips, as they long for someone that they think they could never be happy with…"

 _I'm pretty fucking sure we're in a shounen manga, if anything,_ is what Hijikata would like to say, but there's something coming up his throat as if on cue, and he's too busy trying to cough his lungs out. The fit stops when he hacks up a glob of petals into a small wastebasket, where it sits like a morose wad of brightly colored construction paper that's just been pried out of the jaws of the family pet. Red petals, though he sure as fuck can't tell what kind of flower that they're from. He glares at the mess, as if the sheer force of his gaze could cause it to stop existing. "I'm too damn busy to be sick. How do I get rid of this?"

The doctor's saccharine smile slips and Hijikata feels his stomach drop. "Ah. Well, at this point… you've started coughing up biomatter already, which is, uh, less than ideal? And these x-rays seem to indicate that the parasite has punctured your lungs, in which case the fact that the roots are plugging up the holes might be the only thing keeping them from collapsing entirely. If you'd actually gone to your regular checkups—"

"I was busy," Hijikata tries to defend himself. She bowls right over him.

"If you had gone to your checkups, then maybe we would have caught this sooner and we'd have more options available, and you know, your lungs are already weakened from all the smoking— don't do that either anymore— and really, I don't think anyone was expecting _you_ of all people to have feelings like this— I mean. Uh. No offense." She trails off awkwardly.

Hijikata's fingers itch for a cigarette. "So what, am I just gonna have to live with a fucking bouquet shoved in my chest for the rest of eternity?"

She shrugs helplessly at him. "Depends on what your definition of eternity is. Best case scenario, maybe fifteen more years."

Hijikata stops breathing for a second before his body reminds him why that that’s a terrible idea. "You're joking."

"Nope. If you stop smoking, and take yourself off active duty, and avoid high cholesterol foods and also everyone you know that might be the person you have feelings for… a decade or two! You're lucky that you're so fit what with your whole Shinsengumi thing— well, you're going to have to quit that, I'm sure that police work is much too strenuous—"

"And if I don't?" He says, more calm than he feels.

"As a doctor, I can't—"

"As a hypothetical. If I don't?"

She frowns at him for the first time. It's the most honest expression he's ever seen on her face since he's walked into the clinic. "…Weeks. Maybe six months, maximum. And it will be a painful death, listen, I _really_ can't recommend it, just keep coming back and I think that I might be able to work something out—"

Hijikata stops listening. The rest of the examination passes in a blur, a background to the fact of his impending death.

"Remember, no strenuous activity! And stop smoking! Also, come back every week so I can check up on your progress!" The doctor calls out after Toushiro as he exits the clinic.

* * *

 

Outside on the street, Toushiro lights up a cigarette and sticks it in his mouth. He won't inhale, he can feel the tightness in his chest and it won't look good if the vice-commander of the Shinsengumi starts having coughing fits all over the goddamn street. But god, he just needs to feel normal for a bit.

In a few months, he'll die choking on blood and petals. Fucking hell. He'd never had any plans to live especially long, of course, but this is maybe happening just a bit faster than he'd thought it would.

The thing that gets him, though…

Unrequited love, huh?

Who the hell could it be? It's not as if Hijikata has any kind of love life whatsoever, unless you count being married to his job and that sure as fuck better not be an unrequited love type scenario. Can it be platonic love, maybe? After all, the only person he's ever romantically loved is—

_Oh._

But she— that wasn't unrequited, he tries to argue with himself. He has no doubt that Mitsuba had loved him back, it was just—

She's just not—

(Does "no longer alive" count as unrequited love?)

Hijikata's heart clenches— wait, no, its just another coughing fit. _Fuck._ This one lasts a lot longer, and when Hijikata wipes his mouth, there's a little bit of blood on his hand.

Blood on his hands, blood in his mouth and rattling in his lungs. Is this how she felt?

Hijikata drops his cigarette and grinds it into the pavement with more force than technically necessary. The universe sure has a fucked up sense of humor.

Maybe this is just what he deserves.

* * *

 

"Toushiro." Kondo looks at him with that exact crease between his eyebrows that means he knows something is wrong but he doesn't know what, exactly.

"Shuddup." Hijikata scowls. "All members of the Shinsengumi are supposed to update their wills regularly anyways, I'm just trying to stay ahead of paperwork."

Not that he had much to give away anyways. Hijikata lives in the barracks and all his money goes to mayo or drinks or helping to paying off the damages of whatever the fuck that damn Yorozuya has dragged the Shinsengumi into this week. His will's mostly just instructions to liquidate everything he owns and put the money into the Shinsengumi rainy day fund.

"Nobody actually does that though," Kondo points out.

Hijikata's scowl deepens. "Well, maybe they should then."

"Toushiro, listen." Kondo's eyes are wide and earnest. "You can tell me anything, you know?"

He knows.

 _And that's exactly why I can't tell you,_ Hijikata thinks. _Because you care about me and all your men and if you knew you wouldn't ever be able to keep your big mouth shut, and I don’t think I could possibly stand pity from everyone I fucking know._

"It's not something that requires your attention, Kondo-san," he forces himself to say. "I can deal with it."

And with that, he leaves, shutting the door behind himself with more force than strictly necessary.

Far enough away that he doesn't think that Kondo can hear, he quietly retches up another soggy wad of plant into a napkin. There might be a whole stem in this one, he can feel something scratch his throat as it comes up.

Footsteps behind him. Hijikata doesn't even need to turn around to tell who these belong to, because he knows who they belong too and that the only reason he hears them is because their owner wanted to be heard.

"The hell do you want, Sougo," Hijikata rasps out. Fuck, his voice sounds terrible.

"Well, Vice-Commander, I was just thinking about how pathetic and worm-like you are. Even more than I originally thought, which is impressive, because I already thought that you were the most pathetic, worm-like thing I've ever seen."

"What's your point?"

"What makes you think that I have one? Kondo-san thinks that you might be sneaking off investigating a lead on the Joui patriots by yourself again." His voice is heavy with skepticism.

"Is that what you think too?" Hijikata asks.

Sougo hums noncommittally. "Sure, why not? By the way, how did your extremely overdue medical examination yesterday go?"

Damn. Sougo's always been too fucking perceptive for his own good. Hijikata starts retreating. "That's none of your business."

"Oh, I think it is my business, Hijikata-san," Sougo calls out from behind Hijikata. "You're the Vice Commander of the Shinsengumi, and your actions reflect on all of us. For now, at least. We can't have you lurching all over the place like a plague victim, you know? It's bad for morale."

Sougo pauses for a split second. "And besides, you're not allowed to die until I kill you. I'd hate for people to say that I got the position of Vice Commander through foul play."

Hijikata wonders if this that sadistic little fucker's way of showing concern. And then he remembers Sougo hates him and realizes that he's probably just annoyed that Hijikata wouldn't last as long under torture if he were terminally ill.

(Terminally ill. What an odd way to say you're going to die.)

"Don't hold your breath waiting for me to drop dead." Hijikata snarls as he picks up his pace. "I've got no plans to kick the bucket so soon."

He regrets the words as soon as he says them, because, well. That's actually exactly what he's doing, isn't he? Making plans for when he croaks.

Sougo doesn't call him out on the lie, inadvertent though it might be. But Hijikata can feel eyes burning on his back, and he makes the bloody effort to walk away with his head held high. He's not dead yet.

Six months. He has six more months.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> listen. why is there not more gintama hanahaki fic its perfect... its kind of an out there concept but has the potential to be incredibly bittersweet...  
> anyways, this is theoretically a ginhiji fic but also i sure as fuck aint gonna play it straight so dont hold your breath for any actual. standard hanahaki happy end with a confession. i suspect this is more of a character study than anything else, honestly.  
> please leave a comment! i blazed through the entire manga in about a week so im still a bit shaky on character voice, i think, and id love to know what yall think!


End file.
